a-panegyric-for-her

[a-panegyric-for-her]

10.11.22

the privilege it is to love her

and the freedom that comes with trusting her

[a-panegyric-for-her]

1.11.22

oh, how sure i am that the gods crafted her from the finest marble, just for my hands to glide over every plane and curve of her body

[a-panegyric-for-her]

I am just loose quotes from the people closest to me. Pieces that they have given me, a little smudged, or cracked or not quite perfectly replicated. A poorly constructed mosaic of the people I love.

[a-panegyric-for-her]

♡ | jordan_decoster

[a-panegyric-for-her]

𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟻, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟽 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺-𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟹

[ID: September 25. On the way to the woods. END ID.]

[a-panegyric-for-her]

EXTRAORDINARY ATTORNEY WOO (2022) dir. Yoo In Shik

[a-panegyric-for-her]

by Henri Lehmann /detail/

[a-panegyric-for-her]

It is the little things I associate with her.

A colour.

The pink in sunsets.

A sound.

Her favourite songs.

A sense.

The warmth of her arms around me.

A feeling.

Safe. So safe.

[a-panegyric-for-her]

— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath

[text ID: And so it seems I must always write you letters that I can never send.]

[a-panegyric-for-her]

Comet Leonard

[a-panegyric-for-her]

Instagram credit: ichmiles

[a-panegyric-for-her]

9.9.22

I choose to abandon doubt and my own anxious trepidations in favour of simply living in the moment and being happy.

I truly do not know what it is about her. All my usual self defense mechanisms seem to disappear with her. Instead of acting on my anxieties and running for the hills, I force myself to look for reasonable conclusions, and I stop myself from running.

From her, yes, but also from myself. I sit in my discomfort. I address where my anxiety is coming from.

And not just that; I step away from all of my self sabotage. I do not make a point to create a chaos that I can control. I am letting things happen as they may. I do not ruin my good moods by setting fire to any glimpse of positivity or optimism. I may not wholly engage, but I am still rational at my core, after all.

So what is it about this woman that is so disarming? Why does vulnerability feel safe with her? Why can I be myself when I almost always put up a front? How is it that she has not just forced my guard down, but absolutely obliterated my need for it?

I cannot figure it.

Perhaps she is just good. There are people out there who are just... soft. Safe and kind. She may just be one of them. That is not to say she is perfect. Nobody is, and that would be such an unrealistic ideal to put on her. But she makes me feel safe enough to be myself. And that can only be positive.

I miss her. Yes, yes, pathetic of me. I always miss her. She is just constantly on my mind.

[a-panegyric-for-her]

6.9.22

Finally, I got to see her last night. Of course, my dilemma has returned, wherein I am confronted with my own feelings and am forced to push them down, to force rationality over all else.

What a terrifying reality. Every time I see her, these feelings, whatever they may be, continue to grow. Big, bright bouquets bloom in my chest, petals sprouting from my lungs, vines latticing my ribs, their roots taking seed in my heart. It is beautiful, and wonderful, this feeling. But what if I choke?

Who is to say whether these flowers have thorns?

But Christ, I am not sure I care. I do adore her. She is truly something else. Light and laughter personified. Peace. Just... Just good.

I feel like nothing matters when I am with her, in the most positive way. None of the last two weeks mattered a lick when I was with her. It was just her. Her eyes, her smile, her laugh, her teasing, her.

This does pose an issue, though, because it has not even been a full twenty-four hours and I already miss her tremendously.

She was right. I am always thinking of her. There was a moment in her car where we were just pressed in close, foreheads touching, not kissing but simply... simply being. Just existing in the moment. No greater motive, no sordid intention. Just being close. And I find myself thinking of that moment the most. I wish I knew what she was thinking.

I know what I was thinking. I was terrified. Terrified of how happy I was. Am. There is a very real, very present chance that I may fall positively head-over-heels. I have very definite feelings, I just do not know where they will lead or what to do with them.

[a-panegyric-for-her]

1.9.22

August is over, just like that.

I must see her soon. She has crept into my dreams, I miss her so. The kindness, the laughter, the peace. God, how I miss her!!

[a-panegyric-for-her]

31.8.22

I hope to see her soon. I miss her so stupidly much that I may fling myself from the roof.

What I would give for a hug from her. Even if just a movie night and I make my way home after, or we go to the library and sit in a comfortable silence together. She could be studying, I could be reading. Anything. I just want to be in her presence.

I have decided to knit her a scarf. I will have to find nice colours. But I love to make things for people, this would be perfect.

[a-panegyric-for-her]

29.8.22

Things with her feel better, at least. I do greatly miss her. I am slowly learning where to breathe and where to stop and reflect. I hope I can see her fairly soon.

Being able to talk with her is a small reprieve to the monotonous hell I find myself in. Like a splash of sunlight amongst dull greys. Lord how I could do with a hug from her. I feel like if I could hold her, my worries would melt away, at least for a moment. A moment with her is worth a lifetime, though.

She is a dream, that girl. The stars, sun and moon all in one. I miss getting lost in her eyes. I miss her arms around me. I miss her laughter. I miss the peace of her.

[a-panegyric-for-her]

25.8.22

I do miss her.

She is sunlight. Warmth. Peace.

I miss her.